The arena was electric. Lucas had never experienced anything like it. The noise of the crowd, the bright lights overhead, the distant hum of chatter and cheers—it all felt surreal, as if he was watching himself from a distance. But this was no dream. It was the real deal.
The ring was set up in the center of the massive hall, ropes glistening under the stadium lights. Spectators filled every seat, some waving flags, others chanting the names of their favorite fighters. Lucas stood in the back with Zeca and Leandro, trying to keep his mind focused on what lay ahead. But the energy of the arena was seeping into his veins, making it impossible to stay calm.
He had been to fights before, but never on this stage. This was different. This was his first real tournament—his shot at making a name for himself in the world of Brazilian boxing.
— **"Você está pronto, garoto?"** Zeca's voice was steady as always, but Lucas could hear the tension beneath it.
Lucas nodded. **Was he ready?** He wanted to believe it, but doubt still gnawed at him.
Zeca placed a hand on Lucas's shoulder. — **"Lembra do que a gente treinou. Mantém a calma, usa a velocidade e busca as aberturas. O Gustavo vai querer te pressionar desde o começo. Não entra no jogo dele."**
Leandro, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up. — **"Cara, você treinou demais pra chegar aqui. Não pense demais, só faz o que você sabe fazer. Se movimenta e mete a mão nele."**
Lucas forced a smile. Leandro was right, as sempre. **Don't overthink it.** That was easier said than done, though. Especially with Gustavo waiting in the other corner of the arena, probably pounding his fists together, ready to tear Lucas apart.
The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, introducing the first fight of the night. Lucas's fight wasn't for another hour, but that didn't help the anxiety that twisted in his stomach. He tried to calm himself, but every thud of a punch landing in the ring only made his nerves worse.
Finally, Zeca motioned for him to stand. — **"Vamos aquecer."**
Lucas nodded and followed his coach to a more secluded part of the arena, where they set up some gloves and started working on quick jabs and footwork. The familiar rhythm of training helped. With each punch, Lucas felt himself falling back into the routine, the muscle memory kicking in. **This is what I do.**
— **"Lembra,"** Zeca said between punches, — **"essa luta é sobre controle. Gustavo é imprevisível, mas ele vai vir com força. Você precisa ser inteligente. Movimenta, cansa ele, e depois ataca quando ele abrir."**
Lucas grunted in acknowledgment, his focus now sharpening. He'd watched hours of footage of Gustavo. The man was a force of nature, barreling through opponents with wild, reckless abandon. But Lucas had something those other fighters didn't—speed and precision.
The minutes ticked by, and soon, it was time.
---
Standing in the tunnel leading to the ring, Lucas could hear the roar of the crowd intensifying as his name was called. His heart raced. Every part of him wanted to run back, to hide, to escape the pressure. But then he remembered everything—his mom, Zeca, Leandro, all the training and sacrifices he had made. There was no turning back now.
As Lucas walked toward the ring, the lights seemed to grow brighter. He could feel every eye on him, every shout, every cheer. His name echoed through the arena, but he blocked it out. **Focus.**
And then, he saw him.
Gustavo stood in the opposite corner, his hulking figure impossible to ignore. The man was as massive as Lucas had imagined, his muscular frame practically vibrating with aggression. His nickname, "The Beast," wasn't just for show—he looked like something out of a nightmare.
Gustavo's eyes met Lucas's, and for a split second, Lucas felt a jolt of fear. But just as quickly, he shook it off. **He's just a man. He bleeds like everyone else.**
Zeca leaned in close as they reached their corner. — **"Essa é sua luta, Lucas. Você treinou para isso. Não se esqueça: confie no seu corpo e na sua estratégia."**
Lucas nodded, taking deep breaths as the referee called them to the center of the ring. Standing toe-to-toe with Gustavo, Lucas felt small. The Beast towered over him, his fists clenched so tightly that Lucas could see the veins bulging in his forearms.
The referee gave his instructions, but Lucas barely heard them. His mind was locked on Gustavo—his every movement, every twitch. **I need to stay faster. I can't let him trap me.**
The bell rang.
---
The moment the fight started, Gustavo charged forward, just as Zeca had predicted. He threw wild, heavy punches, each one packing the force of a freight train. Lucas ducked, weaved, and backed away, narrowly avoiding the onslaught. **Stay calm. Stay calm.**
Lucas danced around the ring, using his footwork to avoid being cornered. But Gustavo was relentless. Every time Lucas dodged, the big man was right there, swinging with brutal force.
Lucas landed a few jabs to Gustavo's midsection, testing his reach, but the punches barely seemed to faze him. Gustavo came at him again, launching a devastating hook that Lucas barely slipped under. The power behind the punch sent a rush of air past Lucas's face, and he knew that if it had connected, it might've ended the fight right then and there.
Zeca's voice echoed from the corner. — **"Se movimenta, Lucas! Não para!"**
Lucas kept moving, circling around the ring, throwing light jabs and staying just out of Gustavo's range. The crowd was on its feet, cheering with every close call, every punch that landed or missed by a hair's breadth.
But Lucas knew this couldn't last forever. He couldn't run from Gustavo the entire fight. He needed to create an opening.
As the first round wore on, Lucas noticed something. Gustavo's movements, though still powerful, were slowing just a little. His wild punches were starting to miss by a wider margin. **He's tiring.**
Lucas smiled internally. **This is my chance.**
With thirty seconds left in the round, Lucas saw the opening. Gustavo overextended on a massive right hook, and Lucas slipped to the outside, pivoting just enough to land a solid shot to Gustavo's ribs. The punch landed clean, and Lucas felt the impact reverberate through his glove.
Gustavo grunted, clearly surprised by the counter, but Lucas didn't let up. He followed with a quick left hook to the body, then danced out of range before Gustavo could retaliate.
The crowd roared.
For the first time, Lucas felt like he was truly in the fight. Gustavo was still dangerous, still powerful, but Lucas could see it now—the chinks in the armor. He just had to stay patient, keep moving, and wait for the right moments.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the first round.
Lucas walked back to his corner, breathing heavily but feeling more confident than he had all night. Zeca was waiting with a towel and words of advice.
— **"Muito bem, garoto,"** Zeca said, his voice low but excited. — **"Você encontrou o ritmo. Agora só precisa continuar cansando ele. Vai chegar a hora de atacar, mas não se apressa."**
Lucas nodded, taking deep breaths as Leandro gave him water. **Round one was over, but the real battle had just begun.**